


Garden Within

by bloominglungs



Category: Shingeki no Kyojin | Attack on Titan
Genre: F/M, but also a lot of tears, i cant add too many tags bc that would spoil the whole thing, there will be smut
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-12-21
Updated: 2021-03-04
Packaged: 2021-03-11 00:14:45
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 3
Words: 4,714
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/28205922
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/bloominglungs/pseuds/bloominglungs
Summary: To keep her mind off of war, Pieck starts gardening. Little did she know that Zeke has a garden blooming inside of him every time she smiles.
Relationships: Gabi Braun/Falco Grice, Pieck/Zeke (Shingeki no Kyojin)
Comments: 23
Kudos: 94





	1. The White Orchid

**Author's Note:**

> I've been obsessed with Jikupiku so here, have this chaptered thing.

The unpleasant smell of the cigarette smoke embedded in his clothes made its way up her nostrils and caused her to wince as she leaned her small frame against the door she had just closed behind her. Zeke wasn’t the only one of the warriors that had begun smoking but the particular brand of poison -as she called it- he had chosen seemed to reek far more than Reiner’s, Colt’s and even Porco’s selections. The man ignored her presence for a moment, taking a long, drawn-out drag of his cigarette and holding the smoke in for a few moments before exhaling calmly, a cloud of light-grey smoke enveloping his tall figure and dancing around his shaggy blonde hair. The girl sighed, almost gently, holding on to her crutch for dear life, as if she would melt right into the wooden floor if she were to loosen her grip on it. 

“That’s an awful habit, Mr Jaeger.” Her voice was calm and collected as always, Zeke thought it sounded incredibly pleasant and enjoyed listening to her rambles.

He scoffed, a smirk gracing his bearded features. 

“It’s not like I have much longer anyway, Pieck,” he stated, using his thumb to lightly tap on the cigarette, particles of ash falling to the floor. “And please, Mr Jaeger was my shitty father and you haven’t called me that since you were a child.”

“I’m not sure why I called you that,” she admitted, slowly taking a couple of steps to stand closer to him. Her smile was way too bright for a young woman condemned to die for a nation that saw her as cannon fodder, Zeke noted. “You’re right.”

“I tend to be, sadly,” the man noted. He felt her gaze on him but chose not to address it, instead, turning his blue eyes to the landscape before them, pushing his glasses up with his index finger. “It will be spring soon.” Pieck nodded, her dark eyes still trained on the tall man, looking at him with painful longing and an ache in her chest she couldn’t shake away.  _ He’ll be gone within a year and I’ll be here still. And then, I’ll be gone too. _

“Overthinking is a far worse habit, Miss Pieck,” he said, finally sparing a glance her way but he couldn’t help it that his eyes had to stay on the young woman. Their eyes met finally and she gasped slightly, taken aback by the immense blue looking back at her. “Might kill you sooner than this shit.”

The colour of her cheeks had shifted from their usual pale shade to a much more peachy tone, resembling a ripe apricot. Zeke offered the young woman a rare genuine smile, an uncommon occurrence. She returned the gesture, a look of aching fondness plastered across her rounded, soft face. He had become somehow gentler with time, perhaps the prospect of imminent death had filed away at his edges, making them smoother. 

“I worry about you, sir,” she confessed, averting her gaze. To her surprise, he erupted into a hearty fit of laughter. The blush creeping on her cheeks had become darker and now resembled a plum. She felt heat pool at the pit of her stomach and she wasn’t sure whether to feel embarrassed or warm. Or both at once.

“There is no need, my darling.” His laughter subsided and she felt his heavy hand on her head, his fingers loosely massaging her scalp, engulfing her in a mellow state of being, lulled by the warm breeze that rustled the trees around them. All she could feel was warmth, it seeped into her bones and caressed her skin in a way that had become familiar ever since she began to spend entire evenings conversing with Zeke alone in his room, the moonlight bathing them as they sat in his bed and talked for hours about the world, their favourite books, outer space or the consequences of being used as a weapon of war since a very young age. 

She hummed in response, nodding her head slowly, her eyes meeting his again but, this time, she allowed herself to swim in the ocean of his attentive gaze. He took note of her every move, the way her eyelids fluttered like dandelion seeds floating in the wind; the way her long raven hair flowed down her back. It felt as if he was looking into a kaleidoscope, endless colours and shapes melting into one another in an enticing sight one couldn’t look away from. Little Pieck, weighed down by the responsibility of being a war machine and a child soldier but so bright, so promising. _ Oh, the places she could go had she not been chosen to inherit those pesky titan-shifter powers at such a young age…! _

The man put his cigarette out on a small ashtray resting in the windowsill and, as he reached into his pocket for the pack, he looked over at her and his hand hesitated for a moment. With a sigh, he stopped. He could smoke himself to death, but that wouldn’t give him any extra time. 

“Oh, your orchid has bloomed!” His tone and expression shifted dramatically upon catching a glimpse of the white flower on the inside of the window, so dainty and beautiful much like Pieck herself. The woman nodded, grinning from ear to ear, clearly proud of her accomplishment. 

“It was quite a lot of work,” she admitted, “but absolutely worth it.”

“Absolutely,” he agreed, his voice and semblance much gentler than just a few minutes prior. “I know nothing about flowers, only that they’re lovely.”  _ Much like yourself, Miss Pieck.  _ “How did you come to enjoy gardening?”

“I needed something to keep my mind off of war,” she replied, fondly admiring the orchid as a mother admires her child. He noted a distant note of sorrow in her voice but didn’t condemn her for feeling such things. Pieck had three more years left to live and the biggest portion of them would be spent with blood on her hands. She would watch her comrades die knowing the curse could not be broken and her time would come too. 

“Hm,” was all he said before zoning out one more time, his head spinning with an ungodly amount of invasive thoughts he’d prefer to keep at bay but still managed to creep into his mind. There was nothing he could to keep those thoughts away, they had made a home inside of him. 

Unaware of the passing of time, they stood in silence until the sapphire tones of the sky turned into vibrant oranges and reds and then into indigo until the whole galaxy drew itself above their heads, dotted in milky stars. It had been a while since Zeke had looked up at the night sky with such intent and he figured he should do it more often before succumbing to the curse. After all, it would be better to die looking up at the stars than down at the pile of corpses in the wake of a war he had taken part in.  _ One year. _ He had one year left to live before condemning another child to suffer that same fate. Perhaps he should take a hobby to keep his mind off of his imminent death as Pieck had done. All the stages of grief hit him at once and he was left with nothing but nothingness, keeping his pristine image as the Warchief and leader of the operation, the calm and level-headed Zeke Jaeger that all the kids looked up to, including Pieck herself.

“I’ve been looking after the garden in the back too,” she finally broke the silence with a gentle yawn. “It brings me joy.”

“Are you tired, Miss Pieck?” She nodded in response, slowly turning to open the door. “You should rest.”

She seemed to fall asleep as soon as her body hit the sofa. Zeke took in her sleeping form, the gentle contours of her face, her chest rising and falling with each kind breath. He glanced at the white orchid again, smiling to himself in the quiet of the night.  _ Maybe I should take up gardening too. _


	2. Sickness

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Colt interrupts Zeke and Pieck's blushing moment with terrible news about his younger brother: the child is awfully sick.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hello, my beautiful daisies!
> 
> First of all, I am terribly sorry for the wait. This pandemic has really been hitting me. As you can see, I have been working on some other stuff as well, trying out some new writing styles and just thinking about where I want to take all my stories, this one included. If you thought this story was just going to be about Zeke & Pieck, I'm sorry and I hope you can still enjoy it. I just didn't want to have 14 chapters of the same old sweet talk between them while nothing else happened, but I also didn't want to give anything away too soon. I promise you, this will all come together and make sense soon. Trust me, just trust me!
> 
> As always, please practise social distancing, wash your hands, wear a mask and follow the rules. Have a nice week!

The way the golden sunlight shone on the rain droplets resting atop the colourful petals made Zeke smile to himself. Huffing and puffing at his cigarette, he observed the different species of flowers Pieck had been caring for, to distract her from the war, as she had confessed earlier. It was a small garden but the love put into it stretched out into an enormous forest, like in the fairytales he used to read to her when they were younger. The rainfall from the previous night had left a glow in its wake that Zeke could only describe as beautiful, almost as beautiful as Pieck herself.

“You seem to like my flowers,” her calm voice made the man smile to himself before looking up at her. “Aren’t they pretty?”

“Lovely,” he nodded, squishing the remains of his unfinished cigarette on his ashtray as Pieck sat down next to him. “How did you manage to get them all here?”

She sat down her trusted crutch by her feet on the floor before rubbing her small hands on her long skirt, as if straightening it, her tired eyes looking down at the wet flooring, Zeke’s imponent presence feeling like too much. Sometimes, she felt like she could combust by just being near the man, tall and broad as a warrior should.

“I think it started during our mission in Gallen,” she sounded melancholic, her unruly black hair covering her profile. “I took that orchid from a flower shop.”

Pieck went quiet, still fixated on her brown boots and Zeke knew she prefered to not talk about work. He obliged, looking at her quietly, a hand gently brushing the strands of her dark hair behind her ear so he could see her face. A pair of fatigued pewter eyes met his blue ones, followed by a surge of blood to both their cheeks. They lingered in the moment for a while before he cleared his throat and pointed to a flower with large pointy petals, bright red in the edges and fading into white towards the centre. “I like that one a lot,” he said.

The young woman smiled. “That’s an amaryllis,” she explained. “I read that it symbolises love.”

Zeke returned the smile, his eyes warm behind his round glasses. _Love_ , he thought, _how appropriate._ He remembered reading about some traditions in foreign lands, where people gifted each other flowers on all sorts of different occasions, like weddings, funerals, to celebrate new beginnings and to show love. In Marley, flowers only seemed to be used to embellish homes and gardens, women would carry a bouquet on their wedding day and some children would give flowers to their mothers. But that was an imported tradition and Marleyans didn’t seem to attribute any special meaning to specific plants, instead choosing them based on colour or scent alone.

“I wasn’t aware we had foreign books about flowers in the libraries in Liberio,” the man trailed off, his voice low and contained. He looked up at Pieck to see her tired face adorned with a sly grin. “Oh,” he concluded.

Pieck giggled vivaciously, amused that she had managed to render Warchief Zeke Jaeger speechless, something that didn’t happen often. She took a moment to bask in the glory of taking the words right out of his clever mouth and, although tongue-tied, the man couldn’t consider himself dumbstruck just yet, he wasn’t that easy. He recognised the victorious look she had in her big grey eyes that he used to compare to saucers when he was younger. She didn’t enjoy the comparison at first but, eventually, she warmed up to it.

“Didn’t take you for a criminal, Miss Pieck,” he snickered, his voice returning to him but his cheeks still rosy, though his well-groomed blonde beard, fortunately, hid his blush from her prying eyes. Pieck chuckled, frisk and joyful as always. If only she knew the twists and knots twisting and untwisting in his stomach every time he saw her smile like that…!

“I want to know the world I live in,” she sighed, a slight melancholy in her tone, the tone of someone whose twilights and dawns are limited. “If I have to die fulfilling this duty I despise, I want to at least die with as much knowledge in me as I can possibly gain in my remaining days.”

“Astute as ever, my love.” Flattery came easy to Zeke, he had known the young woman for years and they had fought together, cried together, laughed together. The bond they shared was unlike any other, the bond of two souls who know they are destined to die a cruel death. She didn’t seem to mind the sweet pet names.

“Warchief!”

The urgent shout interrupted Zeke’s bliss, eyes rolling to the back of his head as he turned to face the source of the scream. “Colt. What is it?”

The young man struggled to catch his breath, hands on his knees as he coughed frantically. Pieck hurried towards him, a hand on his back gently stroking up and down. She shot an urgent look at Zeke, who seemed way too calm, as always.

“What’s the matter, Colt,” Pieck, although collected, seemed much more worried. The Warchief threw his half-smoked cigarette to the ground and stepped on it, slowly approaching his younger counterparts.

“It’s Falco,” Colt uttered, despair in his voice. At the mention of the boy’s name, Zeke’s eyes widened behind his glasses. “He’s sick!”

The cigarette butt was forgotten on the ground as the three of them went back inside the house, Pieck’s hand on Colt’s waist as if securing her distraught comrade.

*

The little boy’s skin looked almost green, sickly and clammy, his lips chapped and eyes barely able to open. His friend Gabi was sat on a straw chair placed by his bedside, looking worried and mildly confused. Leaning against the wall, arms crossed over his broad chest, stood her cousin.

“He seemed a bit off the last few days but he suddenly just collapsed,” the brown-haired girl explained. “We were just running around and suddenly he just fell down!”

“Maybe the poor kid just strained himself training too hard,” Reiner offered quietly. “Either way, we should call a doctor.”

“I’m not sure a Marleyan doctor would help an Eldian kid, even if he’s a Warrior Candidate,” Colt whimpered, his hands on his temples, elbows propped up on his upper thighs as he sat in the other straw chair by the door of Falco’s bedroom. “Not a Grice kid, definitely.”

Pieck stood next to him, hands on his shoulders as if to soothe him, quietly observing the sick child as if looking for signs others might have missed. She was no doctor but she had access to forbidden books and she was sure of her intelligence. _There has to be something in the books about his symptoms…!_

Before Gabi could ask why _definitely not a Grice kid_ , she remembered what Falco had said about his father leading some Eldian restorationist group, thus condemning his family name to shame, save for the two boys who agreed to become Warrior Candidates. _That's why Colt was about to inherit the Beast from Zeke_ , she thought to herself.

“What can we do?”

The little girl seemed to be teary-eyed but she was successful at keeping her tears at bay, especially around all the grown-ups. _Can’t have them find out I have feelings._

“Gabi, would you mind answering a few questions,” the Warchief looked at the girl with worry in his eyes. She nodded, lazily getting up as she glanced at the boy one last time, also eyeing her cousin on the other side of the room. Reiner nodded at her before Zeke placed a hand on her shoulder and escorted her out of the room. Reading the room, Pieck urged Reiner to go as well, leaving the Grice brothers alone.

“We’ll figure this out, Colt,” the owner of the Cart Titan softly spoke to the eldest brother, a hand gently ruffling his blonde hair affectionately.

*

“I know that look, Pieck,” Reiner observed, looking at the young woman who lied down on his bed as he sat by his desk. “You’re gonna take matters into your own hands.”

“Well yes, Reiner,” her voice was gentle and mellow as always, but there was a hint of sarcasm in it. “Somebody has to take direct action.”

“I just don’t want you to risk your life, that’s all,” the tall man replied, shrugging his shoulders as he glanced outside at the darkening sky.

“What a gentleman you are.”

Reiner averted his gaze from the sky outside towards the door of his bedroom to see an average-height, light-haired young man closing the door behind himself.

“Galliard.”

“Do you have any ideas, Braun? I don’t remember you being a doctor.”

Pieck felt the mattress beneath her shift when Galliard took a seat beside her on Reiner’s bed. The Vicechief didn’t seem to care that they were sat on his bed or, if he did, he was too tired to chastise them. The dark circles under his eyes seemed to be a part of him now.

“Porco is right, Reiner. We can’t call a doctor and you know I’m the only one who can do something."

"Just be careful, Pieck."

The silence that fell in the room after this exchange felt slightly awkward, especially when the two men realised that Pieck had fallen asleep in that weird cat-like position on top of Reiner's made bed and he didn't want to wake her. Porco grinned, satisfied that the Vicechief would most likely sleep on the floor because he was too cowardly to wake a girl up. Indeed, a gentleman.

"Maybe if you were more of a gentleman, she would be in love with you and not somebody else." Reiner's words as Porco finally exited the room really stung, like pouring salt in an open wound that just wouldn't close. He didn't sleep very well that night and neither did anybody else at the Warrior Unit Headquarters.


	3. Chapter 3

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The mysterious illness seems to be spreading.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> When I envisioned this story for the first time, I didn't think any of this up. But well, it happened!

Zeke woke up with the sun beaming on his face and he groaned, his hand shielding his eyes from the glaring light. Outside, he could hear Magath shouting orders at the kids and their little voices shouting back. It took him a moment to centre himself, his brain still processing his surroundings right after waking up from a night of barely restorative sleep. Ever since the Grice boy had fallen ill a couple of days earlier, all of the Warriors seemed to have difficulty getting a good night’s sleep in, especially his older brother Colt. Zeke thought Colt to be too soft, too gentle to be a Warrior. The young man was wide-eyed and earnest to a fault, and he didn’t deserve to become Marley cannon fodder but, then again, neither did any of them.  _ Especially not Pieck. _

He took his time getting dressed and grooming himself for the day. It would be an uneventful day of boring meetings that he wasn’t looking forward to. Spending his time with Pieck in her little garden seemed a lot more appealing than listening to Marleyan officials babble on about war plans. Sighing, he sat at his immaculate desk, everything in its rightful place. There was, however, something atop his desk that wasn’t supposed to be there, something he hadn’t brought in himself: a flower. _ Oh, Pieck, _ he smiled to himself, bringing the flower to his nose. There was barely any scent to it, he sadly noted, but it was a gorgeous flower, hot pink and dainty. He decided to place it on the left breast pocket of his Marleyan military trench coat, right over his heart. The titan shifter had some time before his first appointment to check on the sick boy and so, he made his way to the infirmary.

“Good morning, Warchief,” greeted a sorrowful Colt, who seemed to have barely moved from the uncomfortable wooden stool at the foot of Falco’s bed for days. It appeared that the boy only left his little brother’s side to attend his duties, use the restroom and get some food. He had dark circles under his eyes and his skin looked awfully dull.

The child was asleep, his skin an ugly shade of a chartreuse-like colour, clammy and lifeless. Even to the Warchief, who had witnessed countless horrors in his lifetime, the sight of the little boy, barely twelve-years-old, laid down in a sterile infirmary bed, looking like he wouldn’t hold on for much longer, felt like too much. He sighed, choking out a cry. Truth is, he liked the children. Underneath that tough exterior and his careless façade, he had somewhat of a heart, mostly softened by the owner of the cart titan. Seeing children suffer wasn’t exactly something he enjoyed, even when it was a war necessity.  _ Awful concept _ , he thought to himself,  _ the suffering of innocents as a war necessity... _

“How are you feeling, Colt?”

The young man shrugged, choking in a sigh. He truly looked beyond spent. A nurse entered the room and Zeke noted that she had a grey armband around her left bicep. She wore a neutral expression on her face whilst carrying a tray in her hands of what seemed like breakfast. She didn’t say anything and simply left the tray on the nightstand by Falco’s bedside and exited the room again, not making eye contact with anybody. 

“I’m tired, Mr Zeke,” he finally sighed, throwing his head back and straightening his back with a groan. “The nurse says she’s never seen anything like this before.”

He went quiet for while that seemed to last for longer than it truly did. The silence felt heavy, uncomfortable, like being enveloped in thick fog. Glancing at the clock above the door, perfectly centred, Zeke bid the young man goodbye with a pat on the shoulder and an uneasy, nervous half-smile. He made his way towards General Magath’s office, where he was to attend a meeting with high Marleyan officers and the remaining warriors - something about the war, as expected. He was so bored of talking about war...

*

A post-meeting cigarette seemed to be everyone’s favourite activity as the warriors stood outside, all puffing away at their smoke, save for Pieck who disliked the smell. It was a beautiful day, too beautiful to spend inside Magath’s office with his dark lifeless decorations and the smell of patchouli that always seemed to linger around his presence. Reiner seemed absent-minded as usual, probably preoccupied with the child. Pieck merely stared off into the cloudless sky, a bored look on her face. Galliard, however, seemed oddly focused on something - well, someone. His eyes didn’t leave Pieck’s form as he inhaled and exhaled smoke, occasionally sipping on his drink in between breaths. He dropped the cigarette to the floor and stepped on it and, as he did, everyone turned to the young man as he began coughing desperately.

“Porco!”

Pieck was the first to get close, a hand on the man’s back, hitting forcefully between his shoulder blades as if he was choking. She was quick to stop, however, as soon as she realised he wasn’t choking on his drink but rather, the cough sounded productive rather than dry, although his skin seemed to lose its natural pale colour and gained an odd tint of green. Reiner was ready to hook his colleague’s arm around his shoulders to get him to the infirmary, while Zeke merely observed as the situation unfolded, unbothered by it. Pieck and Reiner managed to drag the man through the hallways, which took much longer than usual and, just before they could call the nurse, Porco collapsed on his hands and knees, heaving and clutching his chest before vomiting on the floor, getting some of it on his partners’ shoes. Zeke, however uninterested, followed close behind them, thankful he hadn’t been hit with Porco’s puke.

“Shit.”

“You don’t need to carry me like a baby,” Porco protested, getting on his knees before being thrown into yet another coughing fit, his torso bending forward as Pieck soothingly stroked his back. “Fuck!” 

The worried look on Reiner’s face enraged Porco as he glanced up at his taller colleague and let out an aggressive snarl. Zeke had disappeared to find the nurse and Pieck decided to just wait until Galliard felt a bit better to continue walking him towards the infirmary. Reiner had also disappeared but quickly returned with a glass bottle, giving it to his sick comrade.

“It’s just water, drink up.”

Galliard yanked the bottle from Reiner’s hand, making a point to look at the taller man like he felt no joy accepting help from him. He took a few sips before coughing yet again. He tried to hold it in, already feeling humiliated enough that his fellow warriors had witnessed a moment of weakness but it backfired, and the cough became worse and worse and soon, he was vomiting once more. Reiner seemed uncomfortable, avoiding looking down at the sick and just standing awkwardly, looking around to see if he could spot Zeke or the nurse. Pieck, however, couldn’t help but take a closer look at her feet, noticing something odd.

“Those are petals,” she mumbled, more to herself than anybody else. Before she could think about it further, Porco collapsed on the floor, his body completely limp. 

“Nurse!”

  
  


*

  
  


She closed the book she had in her hands quietly and shoved it inside her Marley military trench coat as the door opened. The nurse left a glass of water on the little table by Falco’s bedside and another by Porco’s, then turned to her little work station. Pieck’s eyes followed her around, attentive as always. The nurse left the room just as Colt came in, the smell of cigarettes lingering on his clothes. 

“Reiner told me what happened,” Colt’s voice was gentle, barely above a whisper. “So Galliard is sick too.”

Pieck’s eyes came to meet the boy’s, a pained expression in her face, mirrored in his. Both Porco and Falco seemed to be asleep, peaceful for a change, the same sickening shade of yellow-green tinting their skins. The young woman furrowed her brows, observing the two sick boys. Colt, who had been an observant person, seemed to not be too attentive, perhaps due to the fact that he hadn’t slept properly in a few days and his cheeks seemed hollowed as if he had barely eaten anything.

“They seem to have similar symptoms,” the black-haired woman observed, that look still on her face. “I wonder if it’s the same illness…”

Colt sulked into his little uncomfortable stool, his back and shoulders completely bent in unnatural ways, he looked exhausted and defeated, something Pieck had never seen before. Colt was such a strong man, so focused on his goals but, as soon as his brother became ill, the young man seemed like a shell of himself. Pieck couldn’t help but feel bad for him, nineteen years old and already carrying such weight on his shoulders and knowing his days were numbered. As were hers, Porco’s, Zeke’s, Reiner’s.  _ You fight in wars that have nothing to do with you just so you can be treated with a scrap of dignity for thirteen years and then die.  _ The thought angered Pieck, a feeling she had successfully avoided most of her life - she was far too rational to succumb to rage. But it did take a toll on her, especially looking at the pretty blonde boy in front of her, knowing he was about a year from inheriting the Beast Titan from Zeke and putting a timer above his own head. 

“Colt, why don’t you go to bed? I’ll stay here for the night and look after Falco,” she suggested, making an effort to smile. “You need to rest.”

He wanted to resist but his body was giving in and he found it hard to contradict Pieck. He placed a kiss on Falco’s forehead and tucked the boy in before leaving, giving the woman a genuine smile, a silent  _ thank you _ . She picked up her book again. It was going to be a long night.


End file.
